My perfect and beloved Nabu

***

The weather that evening was dreadful, the sky was covered with clouds, and a torrential downpour was falling. It seemed like all living creatures in the forest had taken shelter from this calamity. But suddenly, the bushes rustled, and a slender and very awkward, dark-skinned young man appeared. He looked tense, constantly glancing around as if searching for someone. "Where could she have gone?" he thought, tears welling up in his eyes. Even his cloak with a hood, made of sturdy fabric that his mother had sewn for him before sending him off on this adventure, was soaked through. He caught himself thinking that he missed his mother terribly, but he simply couldn’t disobey her at that time—after all, the contract with the royal family was more important than anything. In his mind, his mother’s stern voice echoed once more: "Son, you’re an adult now, so don’t let your father and me down. It’s time for you to marry. You must find your bride and win her over—at any cost!" The young man whimpered helplessly, then reached into his coat and pulled out his magical staff, which was still in its folded form. "I hope the spell works," he thought. "I think I’ve gotten seriously lost while following the princess." He waved his staff, there was a flash, but nothing happened. "Dammit..." the curse slipped out of his mouth. "Am I really stuck here? Will I never find her and be brave enough to speak to her? Princess Layla is so sexy... and what a perfect rear she has." His face showed lust as he thought of the princess. "I must get out of here, and then... she has to give herself to me! She must!" The dark-skinned youth took another step forward, slipped on something, and fell, his staff hitting him on the head, making him curse again. His thin, long braid fell directly into the mud. He barely found the strength to get up, only thoughts of the princess kept him going. At first, he felt miserable and crushed because his parents were forcing him to marry, and they’d sent him on this dangerous mission. He was also deeply ashamed because he had never been with a girl before. He remembered almost managing with that girl, Helicia, the one his parents had planned to marry him to before Layla. Throughout their short engagement, she was constantly ill. When she was in a particularly bad state, he had a chance to do what he wanted. But a servant had walked in at the worst possible moment, catching him in a very compromising situation. The servant immediately grabbed him and dragged him to his parents. His father punished him severely, and his mother didn’t want to believe the commoner’s words, but after that incident, she didn’t speak to him for a week. Eventually, she decided that the sickly girl wasn’t worthy of being tied to the richest family in Andros, and the engagement was broken off without even consulting him. Oh, if only he’d had time to get his way with her back then. His thoughts left him feeling miserable, and he kept touching his skinny face, running his fingers over his numerous pimples.

***

After the rain, Layla finally went out for her evening run. Lately, she had been feeling uneasy because some strange guy had been spying on her constantly. She thought that sooner or later, her patience would run out, and she would catch and give this stalker a good beating. While running across a clearing, she suddenly heard an unpleasant male voice and froze, looking toward the source of the sound. "I'm out! I think I made it out!" the stranger yelled. Layla moved closer, and seeing the cloak, she recognized the one who had been following her for a month. "Explain something to me," she asked. The boy, upon seeing Layla, blushed deeply and froze in place. "Have you been stalking me?" The boy tried to say something but only mumbled incoherently, his knees trembling. "I’m asking you! Are you deaf?" "N-no, why would you think that? I wasn’t... I got lost and barely made it out," he timidly justified himself. "I’ve seen you!" Layla declared. "How could I not see or hear it? The way you breathe all the time, that disgusting smell of sweat. You also seem to have stomach problems! And I kept seeing your rear sticking out from hiding, and that red cloak of yours, unmistakable." "I wasn’t stalking... just a coincidence..." "Who are you trying to fool?" She stepped closer to him, staring intently. The boy trembled and sweated even more. "Who are you and where did you come from? That cloak and those patterns look familiar to me. Are you from Andros by any chance?" "Yes... I mean no..." the boy stammered, clearly unsure, while Layla grew increasingly irritated. "I really am pleased to meet you. My name is N..." He paused awkwardly, almost revealing his real name, but then remembered his mother’s warning to keep it a secret until the end. He quickly thought of the first name that came to mind. "Ophir!" That was the name of a man his mother used to lock herself in her room with for long hours. "Listen, Ophir! Stalking people is illegal. If I see you anywhere near me again, even a few meters away, you’ll regret ever being born!" With that, she kicked Ofer in the leg, and he howled in pain as she ran off. "I didn’t think she’d be this mean!" Ophir thought, clutching his injured leg, which would later be bruised for a month. "Did I really fart that loudly for her to hear?"